Soldiers Not Lovers
by The Quiller
Summary: /He kisses her for the first and last time in their lives./ Character death, non-specific.


_For any named or unnamed Bleach couple you prefer:_

. . .

_**Soldiers Not Lovers**_

. . .

They are soldiers, not lovers.

The first time he sees her bared breasts, it is because he has ripped away the top of her uniform, fully baring her chest to the cold night air.

His actions are panicked and desperate. His reasons are selfish and terrified.

They say that a woman's body should be mysterious, like a well-kept secret or a sacred treasure.

Nothing is secret or sacred on the battlefield. The Hollows do not discriminate; their claws and teeth rend through all flesh and blood alike. Soldiers, thus, cannot discriminate either. Modesty is only the first of many casualties in battle.

Hot, thick blood bubbles up from the gaping wound with every slowing heartbeat, and his hands are slippery and frantic as he presses them against her, trying to staunch the flow. His robes are in shreds too, scavenged for a makeshift tourniquet and bandages. This is an act of love, true, but his love is a selfish one.

Their story is a mockery of romance.

He wants her to live only because he cannot bear to let her die.

When he presses his lips to hers for the first time, any lingering childish dreams finally wither away. It isn't clean. It isn't pretty. All he feels is fear and failure as he desperately tries to breathe air back into her failing lungs. There is no magic in their first kiss, no sense of wonder or shy meeting of eyes, nor a miraculous spell to revive the sleeping princess.

Instead, it tastes of vomit and tears and desperation as he breaks her ribs trying to massage her heart back to life. It isn't working. It isn't _working_, but he doesn't know what else he can do. He doesn't know any healing kido. He wouldn't have the energy for it even if he did. Carrying her is out of the question, considering how badly wounded she is and how badly drained he is. As he begs her to live in between every ragged breath, all he can really do is send up a soldier's prayer – head bowed, hands stained, and heart broken – that the Fourth will either arrive soon enough to save her, or late enough to lose him as well.

They say that tears of joy are sweet, like a lover's kiss.

His tears are so very, very bitter. Like a soldier's kiss. Like a soldier's farewell.

Perhaps like both.

In the end, they are not lovers nor are they poets.

They had all first stepped onto the battlefield with such grand dreams. Everyone starts with a vision of duty and pride, as if there is something noble in laying their lives down for the sake of others. The truth is very different – they can live with honor and they can fight with honor, but they can never die with honor. Death is death. It is often gruesome and terrifying, full of screams and spilled guts, shredded skin and crunching bones as Hollows feast on their remains. There is nothing glorious about dying like that.

Few are ever truly prepared to make that sacrifice.

Tomorrow, maybe tomorrow, but no one ever expects to die _today_.

She is dying today.

There is nothing he can do to stop it. She is too far gone to hear his voice, and his '_please, I love you_' falls on unhearing ears.

He kisses her lips and touches her breasts with only a soldier's desperation and none of a lover's wonder, for both the first and the last time in their lives. Dreams break on reality's shores. They say love should be starry skies and soft confessions and secret smiles, but he finds only anguished screams and bloodstained hands and a lifetime full of regrets.

This is all he will ever have to remember her by.

In the end, they were soldiers, and so they will never be lovers.

. . .

_Inspired by the TV trope page about CPR being 'Clean, Pretty, Reliable' and a discussion about what being a Shinigami would really be like, since every Shinigami has essentially signed up to fight a never-ending war against monsters that want to eat you._

_Non-specific pairing, so feel free to imagine any couple you like, or just keep it two nameless Shinigami in the background._


End file.
